


Seasons in Hell

by RosieTheRiveter



Series: Salvation [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Anal Sex, Child Abuse, Demon Deals, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Oral Sex, Prostitution, Slash, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-14 00:37:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1246183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosieTheRiveter/pseuds/RosieTheRiveter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean didn't believe he was worth saving.  Cas knew he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seasons in Hell

**Author's Note:**

> * Takes place after The Purge - slightly altering the fact that Dean and Sam are together at the end of the episode.
> 
> \- I love Dean and Cas - and for some reason I always love torturing my beloveds. So I do apologize. :)
> 
> \- I am afraid John doesn’t come off too well in this next part, so I apologize. But John kind of struck me as a father who wasn’t too into letting his kids be themselves or into making sure they were well taken care of while he was hunting – so you get this perspective. I hope you like it. If you do, there may be a Part III in it for you.
> 
> -Reviews are my candy.
> 
> <3 ~RtR
> 
> *I do not own any of these characters, story is purely for entertainment purposes.

Part II

 

~*~*~*~*~

1995

_Trace Basher was beautiful. At least Dean thought so. Trace was a hunter they’d met up with in Davenport, Iowa to clean out a nest of vamps. Bobbie had given John his name, telling him he was a good hunter – worth his salt. The name Trace Basher was obviously an alias but hunters were never ones to push for anyone’s real names or stories._

_Dean saw the way he fought off two of the vamps that had jumped them in an alley, saving John’s life in the process and was spellbound. He was 23 years old, tall and blonde with light blue eyes, sensual lips and a Southern Texas drawl. A perpetual five o’clock shadow and a scar that bisected his left eyebrow kept him from looking feminine. He sported a cowboy hat and boots that captured Dean’s imagination, thinking this was the way a real cowboy would look. Trace was tough, knew his way around any kind of firearm and could throw a K-Bar knife with precision. He played pool like a pro and was so charming that when he hustled someone out of a wad of cash, they acted like he’d done them a favor when he bought them their next round._

_John had decided that at sixteen, Dean was finally old enough to do a real honest vampire hunt after doing salt and burns for about a year now. So, he’d asked Bobby to keep Sam for a week or so figuring the boy could use some down-time sleeping in a real bed and going to the same school for a couple weeks straight._

_They’d made camp 30 minutes outside of town in an abandoned deer hunter’s cabin and made plans for clearing out the remainder of the nest. The vamps were holed up at an old tire factory on the other edge of town. John wanted to keep an eye on them for a day or so to be sure how many of them there were – getting taken by surprise in the alley was a mistake they couldn’t afford to make twice._

_Since it was a simple stakeout, John decided he would take the mission himself, leaving Dean and Trace at the cabin to prepare the weapons and supplies they would need._

_“I’ll be back tomorrow morning. Get some rest – got it Dean?” John ordered like a Drill Sergeant rather than a father. “It’s gonna be straightforward but this is your first hunt so you gotta be on your toes.”_

_“Yessir.” He replied as he watched John get into the Impala and drive off into town._

_He and Trace began field stripping the weapons, cleaning every nook and oiling them until they were gleaming. A gun was really not the weapon of choice for killing a vamp since you had to cut the head off – but a hunter’s firearms were a matter of pride – tools of the trade. Once they were satisfied with the guns, they went to work sharpening the machetes until they would slice a gnat in half._

_“So Dean – are you excited about your first hunt?” He tipped the bottle of whiskey at Dean with a look that asked him if he wanted some. Dean took it and gulped a swig town, trying not to cough at the stinging taste. John never let him drink but he figured what John didn’t know - ._

_Dean was a little tongue-tied trying to talk to Trace. He was infatuated with the young man and what amounted to a movie star in his book. “Uh – yeah. Pretty excited.” Dean felt warm as Trace set his blue eyes on him._

_“You have a girlfriend?”_

_“Me?” Dean turned red when his voice squeaked slightly as he replied in surprise. He cleared his throat. “Uh – no – not really. We move around a lot of course.”_

_“Yeah. I know how it is. So you’re a virgin, huh?” Trace swigged at the whiskey and passed it back to Dean._

_“Huh? No! No. I’ve - ya know - been with a couple girls.” Dean stammered, remembering being relieved of his virginity a few months prior by a particularly grateful co-ed when they’d solved a minor ghost problem at a Connecticut Sorority house. His face was flaming now. He gulped another nervous swallow of whiskey down._

_“So you like girls?” Trace cocked an eyebrow at him._

_“Uh, yeah. Sure I do.” Dean replied truthfully. “Of course I do.”_

_“You ever been with a guy?”_

_Dean stammered, shocked. “Uh – no. ‘course not.” He scoffed unconvincingly a little excited thrill jolting through him and his face flamed._

_“So you don’t like guys?”_

_“Huh?” Dean replied weakly unable to confirm or deny the answer._

_“’Cause I noticed the way you’ve been looking at me. And I want you to know – it’s OK. You can look at me if you want.”_

_“I – uh.” Dean’s ears flamed._

_“You’re a real good lookin’ guy too Dean. Don’t think I didn’t notice you too.”_

_Dean shifted in his seat, a warm feeling in his belly from the whiskey and the compliment. Trace thought he was good looking. It was like the sun turning it’s rays on just for him and he blushed with pleasure. “Thanks.”_

_“You ever thought about it?”_

_“What – ?“ Dean studied the edge of his machete furiously._

_“Being with a guy – You ever think about it?”_

_Dean hesitated. He knew John’s views on the subject all too well. After a waiter at a diner outside of Terre Haute flirted with Dean, he’d heard a 20-minute tirade in the car about “faggots”. Dean had been humiliated knowing the thoughts he himself had on occasion about men._

_Still – he couldn’t help but answer Trace’s question truthfully. “Um. Yeah. I guess so.”_

_Trace stepped closer. “I could show you – you know, some things – you could see if you like it.” Dean stared up at Trace enraptured and not breathing._

_“OK.” Dean replied weakly – he felt lightheaded and trembled a little as Trace leaned down and kissed him firmly on the lips. He slid his tongue into the moist parting of Dean’s mouth and worked it back and forth until Dean opened up to him. Trace pulled Dean out of his chair and into him, plundering Dean’s mouth until the younger boy was panting._

_“You OK, kid?”_

_“I’m not a kid.” Dean groused._

_“Relax.” He chuckled. “I’m just teasing. You’re gorgeous - you know that? I mean, like you could be a movie star or something. I bet the girls go crazy for that mouth.”_

_“I – uh, I dunno.”_

_“Trust me. You look at that mouth and can’t help thinking about what it can do.” Trace lowered his mouth back to Dean’s, dragging them together and sucking at his lower lip until he was rewarded with a whimper. Trace slowly unbuttoned his shirt while Dean’s eyes followed his fingers. Taking Dean’s hand, he guided it to his bare chest. “Do you want to touch me?” Dean’s hand explored, feeling the tight muscles of his belly, the pucker of his nipple and was rewarded with a moan._

_Trace moved Dean’s hand to the fly of his jeans, where his sex was straining at the fabric. He held Dean’s palm against it until he started stroking the heat there. “That’s right. That feels good Dean.” He mumbled against Dean’s mouth. Trace ran his hand through Dean’s hair. “Do you want me to touch you?”_

_Dean was unable to speak - he had closed his eyes and was too mesmerized by the feelings that were starting to build. He just nodded._

_Dean felt Trace unbutton his jeans and slide his hand down into his underwear, circling his filling erection and stroking it until it was hard and pulsing with need. Dean moaned and leaned into Trace’s chest feeling weak. When Trace withdrew his hand, Dean gave a little cry of protest. Trace chuckled. “It’s Ok Dean – you don’t want to finish too soon. C’mon.”_

_Trace led Dean to the pallets of bedding and sleeping bags in the corner of the room and gently began to undress him. “You OK? We can stop you know – no harm done.”_

_Dean shook his head. “N – no. I want to.”_

_“God – you’re sexy.” Trace murmured as he pulled Dean’s tee-shirt over his head. “You know how to give a blow job?” Trace asked._

_“I – “ Dean was embarrassed by the forwardness off the question – and by his lack of experience. He’d seen a couple pornos on TV in the motels they’d stayed at after Sam had gone to bed but he had no practical experience._

_“No? A virgin mouth? How did I get this lucky? It’s OK – I’ll tell you what to do, OK?”_

_He gently pushed on Dean’s shoulders until he kneeled in front of him and quickly undid his pants, slipping them off his hips, his aroused cocked bobbed up tight against his stomach. “Geez Dean – I’m so friggin’ hard thinking about your mouth.” He lightly stroked himself. Dean swallowed nervously. “Give me your hand.” Dean obliged and Trace guided his hand to his erection showing him how to touch him. “Just touch me like you touch yourself. You know what feels good. Mmmmmm yeah – that’s right. Now put your mouth on me. Open your mouth. Let me see your lips on me Dean.” Dean opened his mouth, licked his lips and lowered them to the head of Trace’s sex, drawing his tongue through the bead of moisture on the tip. At the taste, an electric shock went from his mouth into his groin and the pleasure made him bolder. He opened his mouth wider so he could take more of the thick shaft into his wet mouth then slid it back out and in again. “Oh man. I can’t believe you’ve never done this before. Your mouth is so soft. Feels so good. Use your tongue. That’s right. Yeah.”_

_Dean gripped the base of Trace’s cock as his head bobbed up and down sucking and moaning, using his tongue to circle in wet paths over and down the hot shaft._

_Trace threaded his fingers through Dean’s hair and sighed in ecstasy. He couldn’t believe the kid had never done this before. He started rocking his hips, pushing further into Dean’s mouth, careful not to make him gag on it. He looked down at Dean who tilted his green eyes up at him; the sight of his beautiful lips wrapped around his cock was so erotic he almost lost his control._

_“Yeah that’s good. Suck harder for me. Yeah. Like that.” He took one of Dean’s hands that were bracing themselves on his bare thighs and guided it to stroke his balls._

_“Dean – oh God. I’m – I’m gonna come baby.” Trace’s balls tightened and his penis twitched against Dean’s tongue until he released his come into Dean’s mouth. Without thinking, Dean sucked it from the tip and swallowed eagerly as Trace spasmed and spurted again and again. The wet sounds mixed with grunts as he took it down his throat was like a wet dream and Trace knew he was going to jerk off to this memory for a long while._

_Trace shuddered and relaxed, pulling out. “Jesus Dean – did you swallow?”_

_Dean ran his forearm across his mouth and unconsciously licked his lips. “Huh? Uh - I guess so.”_

_“Fuck – I can’t believe you were a virgin at that.” He chuckled huskily looking down at the freckled face looking innocently up at him and stroked his cheek. “You’re like an old pro. You could make money doing that.”_

_Trace knelt down in front of Dean and pushed him back against the bundle of blankets until Dean was laid out in front of him. He undid Dean’s zipper and shimmied his jeans off his slim hips until Dean was lying naked and hard and beautiful below him. He lowered himself until he lay fully on top of Dean and leaned on his forearms so as not to crush the smaller young man._

_He sucked gently at Dean’s throat and let one hand wander his body, feeling his erection fill again at the thought of what he could do to Dean. He began to stroke his re-hardening cock against Dean’s, feeling him trembling underneath him. Dean rolled his hips into Trace, increasing the pressure and friction._

_“Can I fuck you?” Trace moaned into Dean’s ear._

_Dean stared up at Trace wordlessly. He wanted it but was nervous._

_“I – I don’t know.” Dean looked away. “I’ve never done that. I’m not sure.”_

_Trace nibbled at Dean’s ear and ran his thumb through the dripping tip of his cock. “Sure you do. You know you want it. I can tell you want it. You’re practically humping me. Let me show you how it feels. I’ll make you come so hard. You think those high school girls can make you feel like I can?” Trace licked the salty flavor off his thumb and moaned at the taste. He licked his palm and brought it back down to stroke Dean again who bucked into Trace’s fist._

_“I – I guess. But – I’m nervous.”_

_“Don’t be nervous. I’ll take care of you.” Trace grabbed his rucksack and rummaged into it producing some condoms and lube. “You gotta trust me, OK? I don’t want to hurt you so you have to relax. Just let yourself feel good. Don’t start thinking ‘cause you’ll tense up and it’ll hurt. OK?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_Trace gazed into Dean’s green eyes, heavy-lidded with lust and his mouth was swollen with kisses. “God you’re beautiful. Like a painting or something.” Trace gently nudged Dean’s legs apart and knelt between them. He poured some lube out into his palm and drew a slick hand down the shaft of Dean’s hard cock eliciting a choking moan from him. “Oh man – you were made for this. You were made for sex.” Trace stroked Dean until he writhed and panted under him. He poured more lube over his fingers and slid them unto the cleft between Dean’s ass, fingering the puckered opening there._

_Dean gasped. “Trace!”_

_“It’s ok baby. I’ll make it feel good – I promise. OK? Just relax.” He circled the opening with his fingertips until Dean was squirming and whining under his touch. He momentarily pushed his finger into him and withdrew quickly, leaving Dean to wonder if he’d really felt it. Trace waited until Dean nudged himself against his finger and then entered again, this time letting Dean adjust to the feeling before massaging the entrance in a steady rhythm. He slowly introduced a second and then a third finger, stretching him and teasing and fucking him with an increasingly frustrating slowness. When he was satisfied he’d prepared Dean, he rolled a condom on and slathered more lube down his shaft and on Dean’s opening. “You sure?”_

_Dean was in a trance from the sensations he was feeling and managed to rasp out a whispered “yes.”_

_Trace entered incrementally, pushing forward into Dean until he was buried – Dean panted with the overwhelming sensation of being filled. “I – I don’t know – it hurts.”_

_“Shhhhhhh. Relax and it won’t hurt as much. You’ll get used to it and it’ll feel good.”_

_Dean nodded with his eyes pressed shut. He willed himself to relax his muscles and the pain eased. He felt the older man steadily stroking his shaft as he began to move in him, rocking him with his thrusting._

_Trace adjusted Dean’s hips to get a deeper angle and Dean cried out as Trace hit the spot he was looking for. “Dean - talk to me.” With his free hand, he thumbed Dean’s bottom lip. His mouth looked so delicious._

_“Uhhhhh. I – God. Trace – I’m – Don’t stop. Don’t – Feels so good.” Dean whimpered and writhed as the bundle of nerves was brushed again and again until the intensity of it made him come undone._

_Dean’s abdomen started to tighten and he pushed his ass into the thrusts. “I’m gonna come. I’m – “ with a low sobbing moan, Dean came into Trace’s fist – and Trace used the slippery liquid to pump him rapidly through the orgasm - finishing him off completely. Dean whimpered and licked his lips as his cock settled into the final jerking twitches._

_Trace concentrated on Dean’s blissed face and satiated body as he drove into him harder in the throws of his own orgasm. “Fuck! Ohh fuck! Dean that fucking mouth! I can’t stand it. I want to – fuck!” Trace bowed into Dean’s body, wracked with spasms and emptied himself. He collapsed his head into the crook of his neck, sucking at the damp, salty skin. “Jesus. You felt so good.” He panted._

_“Are you OK Dean?”_

_“Uh huh.”_

_He kissed Dean’s lips again, they still tasted like come and if they had more time alone he would have fucked his mouth again. “We should clean up. In case your Dad comes back.”_

_Dean agreed. John could never know about this._

~~~~~~

_“What the Hell is this!?” John held up the condom wrapper he’d found amongst the bedding._

_Dean grew numb with fear. He and Trace had been together a couple of times since that first night. They’d been careful – or so he’d thought. He’d thought they’d gotten rid of all evidence of what had happened. But they had been celebrating Dean’s first Vamp kill while John had been out with the waitress from the bar in town - and gotten careless apparently._

_“John – it’s nothing - don’t make a big deal out of it.” Trace shrugged noncommittally._

_John knew there was no way one of them had brought a woman back to this shit hole so his only other option was that the two of them – no the thought of it made him want to kill someone. “What do you mean ‘It’s nothing’??!! Did you do something to my kid? Did you touch him?!!” John’s face twisted with rage. He turned to Dean and grabbed his arm angrily, shaking him for an answer. “Did he touch you?!? What did he do?!!”_

_Dean’s face grew hot. He couldn’t answer truthfully but he couldn’t blatantly lie to his father – John always knew when he was lying. He couldn’t think. His brain had stopped functioning. “Dad – uh.”_

_John wheeled back around on Trace. “Did you screw my kid??!”_

_“John –“_

_John’s fist crashed into Trace’s jaw, buckling the man’s legs. He pummeled him over and over. Dean had never seen him so out of control. “Dad! No – it’s not his fault!”_

_“Shut up Dean!” John snarled wildly at Dean. “I’ll take care of you later!”_

_Trace took the opening to reach for the knife in his boot and held it aloft in front of him, holding the older man off and wiped the blood from his split lip. “That’s enough John – look – you can be pissed but I didn’t do anything he didn’t want.”_

_“Fuck you! My kid would never want that.”_

_Trace chuckled ruefully. “Believe what you want John. I’m out of here.” Trace kept his knife pointed at John as he grabbed up his stuff and threw it in his pack. He glanced at Dean, regretting only that he hadn’t had more time alone with him. “You take care of yourself, kid.”_

_“Get the fuck out!!” John panted. “You come near us again – and there won’t be enough of you left to burn.”_

_Trace slammed out of the cabin and a moment later they heard his truck roar to life and tires squeal away as Trace gunned the motor making his escape._

_“Dad – “ Dean’s words were cut off by a slamming backhanded blow against his cheek._

_“Shut up!”_

_Dean’s vision grew gray around the edges and his knees buckled slightly, a salty, metallic taste filled his mouth._

_“How could you be so disgusting?! Don’t you ever – **ever** – think I’m going to let any son of mine go around acting like a fucking faggot! You hear me??!! I’ll kill you myself first!” His fists clenched in rage as he hulked over Dean._

_“Da- Dad.” Dean swallowed at the nausea. “I’m - sorry.”_

_“Sorry?! You’re sorry???” John’s hand came down once again – this time impacting Dean’s eye socket, and again leaving Dean’s lip bloody and starting to swell and one more time, bruising his ribs as he gasped and coughed from the pain._

_“Dad.” Dean whimpered. “Please.”_

_John panted to a stop. “You’re right. You are sorry.” He looked at Dean, disgust in his eyes. “Get your things – we’re leaving.”_

_“Yessir.” Dean was shaking uncontrollably and trying not to cry. He knew that would only make a beating worse. It always did. **‘**_ **Are you crying?? I’ll give you something to cry about!’** _He gathered up his few belongings and bedding and started to carry them out to the car._

_John grabbed his shoulder roughly. “Bobby and your brother don’t need to know anything about this. You got it? You got roughed up during the hunt.”_

_Dean just nodded and kept his eyes on the ground._

~~~~~

“ _What the hell happened? I thought you said the hunt went fine?” Bobby searched Dean’s face, mentally itemizing the bruises and cut lip and the stiff way he stood with his arm around his ribs._

_“You OK Dean?” Sammy squeaked._

_“Yeah Sammy – I’m fine.” Dean said weakly at his brother, not making eye contact. “Stupid vamp.” He chuckled hollowly._

_“John?”_

_“It’s fine Bobby. Dean’s fine – he just knows to be a little bit more careful next time we hunt. Don’t go trusting just anyone – isn’t that right Dean?” John prompted his son darkly._

_“Yeah Dad.”_

_Bobby cleared his throat. “Uh – hey Dean, I just got a hold of a ’69 Dodge Coronet. I got a buyer for it but it needs some body and engine work – but if you can help me out, I’ll split the profits with you. Whaddya say?”_

_“Uh – yeah sure Bobby, that’d be great. If we’re sticking around for a little bit.” He answered but kept his eyes on the ground._

_Bobby looked at John for confirmation._

_“Yeah – sure. For a little bit. I need some downtime.” John sighed wearily._

_Bobby turned back to the older boy. “Why don’t you take Sammy outside – the two of you check it out – it’s on the side near the crusher.”_

_The two boys hurried outside to check out the vintage car and Bobby turned on John._

_“What the Hell John? D’jou hit the kid??”_

_“Screw you Bobby. You got no idea how to raise a teenage boy – you gotta keep him from doin’ stupid stuff that’ll get him into trouble. Sometimes that means you gotta make him listen.”_

_“Oh – I know all about that kind of listening. My father taught me plenty of listening skills.” Bobby’s voice dripped with dark sarcasm._

_“Stay out of it Bobby. You don’t know what he did.”_

_“Stay out of it? You three are family. That makes it all kinds of my business. Let me tell you something – I find out you hit the kid again – and you’ll –“_

_“I’ll what Bobby?! Huh? I’ll be sorry? I’m already sorry. He’s an embarrassment. He – “ John stopped himself._

_Bobby scowled. “An embarrassment? The kid worships you. Follows you around like a friggin’ puppy. Does everything you ever ask him to do. Has an instinct that I haven’t seen in hunters twice his age. And you beat the kid? - Call him an embarrassment??”_

_“He was screwing around – having sex.” John’s face turned scarlet._

_“So? The kid is sixteen – he’s gonna have sex eventually – especially in this kind of life. It’s good for him to blow off steam. Frankly, I’m surprised you aren’t proud of him.”_

_“ – with a guy Bobby. He was screwing a guy.“ He couldn’t believe he’d told Bobby – but he had to know what kind of trouble Dean was up to. To prove he was right to beat it out of him._

_“Oh - K.” Bobby looked a bit weirded out but then mentally shrugged. “But again – so what? This isn’t 1950 John – we don’t beat our kids or disown them for bein’ gay. You accept it because you love them and you move on. You think you are the model father? All the crap these kids have been through and you think they’re gonna get married to a nice girl, get settled down in suburbia, have 2.5 kids and a basset hound? Gimme a break.”_

_“Look. This isn’t up for discussion. I’m his father. I say what is acceptable. End of story.” John clenched his jaw and stalked upstairs to get some sleep._

_~*~*~*~_

Now

 

“Dean. Where are you going?” Dean had been trying to be as quiet as possible as he threw his gear into his duffel. He was going to try to sneak out so as to avoid this scene. He wasn’t proud of it – but there it was. He should have known better than to try and sneak out on someone with friggin’ super powers.

“I told you Cas. I have stuff I gotta do. What we did – “ Dean reddened in lust from the memory of the epic morning he’d just spent in bed with a literal Angel. “ – well it doesn’t change the fact that I have a job to do. As great as it was.” He smirked sweetly at Cas to temper the harshness of the words.

Cas got out of bed and approached Dean wearing only that stupid pair of boxers. His hair was perfectly sex ruffled, his eyes, lips and body were still sleepy and he looked like he was thoroughly and completely well fucked - just the way Dean liked him. It was enough to make Dean regret not being able to dive headfirst with him back into the rumpled sheets and stay there for the rest of the week, touching and kissing and fondling and making love until they were in a stupor. He wished he could forget everything crappy in his life, every obligation and every mistake and just swim in a sea of blue eyes until Cas made all the suck go away. But that wasn’t going to happen. No matter how hard he prayed to whoever wasn’t even listening.

Cas’ hands ran up Dean’s chest to his shoulders. “You swore you wouldn’t leave.”

“Cas I – I never said I’d stay in this room forever.”

“But you’re going to go chase Abaddon – don’t you even care that you could get yourself killed?”

Dean fought for an answer. “I care. I do care Cas. If only for your sake, I care. Staying here with you – God knows it would make me happy. But then, I don’t really deserve much happiness Cas.” He bent to kiss the lips in front of him and for a moment Cas acquiesced and pushed up against Dean in an urgent kiss.

Suddenly the Angel broke away. “Damn you Dean. You are so infuriating. I cannot let you do this on your own. I have my powers back – maybe not entirely, but I can be of use to you. I can help. I’ll go with you.”

“Cas – no – _I_ have to do this. Me. Alone.”

“Do you think you can stop me if I decide to follow you?”

“Cas you stubborn ass – you can’t. You have to go back to the bunker or find Sam or – whatever.” He stroked Cas’s face to let him know he didn’t truly mean the insult. “Aren’t you still looking for that jack-hole Metatron?”

“I - thought after what happened between us – that you’d think differently about this foolish plan.”

Dean paused with a thought that made a lump rise in his throat. “Cas – did –“ he sighed not wanting the answer but needing the answer. “Did you sleep with me to try and save me from myself? To keep me here? Or to guilt me into taking you with me?”

Cas scowled. “It saddens me that you think so little of yourself Dean. Of course I didn’t. I wanted to be with you.” He ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, wanting to pull him back into bed to show him just how much he’d wanted him. “I’ve wanted that for a long time.”

Dean sighed, relieved and nodded. “Good. Good. Because I wanted it too Cas. If it only ever happened just this one time – I want you to know it meant a lot to me. I want you to know – that I – “ He couldn’t say it. Even if it was the last time he might see Cas – he couldn’t just say the words. Because he wasn’t any different in that way than he’d ever been. He wasn’t a man who spoke flowery words. He was a man of action. He was a man who showed you how he felt by running into a building filled with bloodthirsty demons to save your ass or by throwing himself in front of a machete coming your way. He was Han Solo. He wasn’t going to be quoting Yeats anytime soon or taking Cas in a boat on a lake to tell him all his feels. It just wasn’t how he was. “You know how I feel about you, don’t you?” That was as close as he was going to get to _I love you._

“Yes Dean. I think I do. And I feel the same.”

“So – so please do what I’m asking you to do and go to Sammy. If you want to do something for me – to help me – that’s what you can do. OK? Please.”

“OK.” Cas sighed. “I’ll do as you ask Dean. But before I go, you need to know something. I will never leave you. Do you understand what I’m saying? I will _never_ leave you. Please listen to my words – and believe them - because you seem to only ever hear what your self-loathing wants to hear.” Cas took a deep breath. “Even if I’m not - even if – something happens – and you don’t see me for a long time - I’ll _never_ have left you. Not really.”

“Cas? What are you - ? What are you saying? You’re being really cryptic – even for you. Where are you going?”

Cas kissed him deeply once more and disappeared in a flutter of wings.

“Cas!? Cas! What the fuck did that mean?! Cas! Son of a bitch!”

 

~*~*~*~*

“Sam.”

“Cas. What’s up? Why are you here?” Sam asked him in a friendly manner.

He didn’t mind if Cas wanted to hang around but he didn’t need him – not like Dean seemed to. Dean seemed to act like a lost puppy if Cas wasn’t near them all the time.

Sam knew it was more than the team needing Cas’ Angel mojo – after all, they’d hunted for years before Cas showed up - and it wasn’t because they were all just good pals. Sam figured someday Dean would figure it out for himself. He wasn’t getting involved in his brother’s love life. Especially these days.

“We need to talk.” Cas seemed pissed so Sam turned away from the laptop in curiosity. Cas rarely wanted to have a chat unless it was important.

“About what Cas? If this is about Dean again – you can save your breath – I don’t want to hear it.”

“Well too bad. You’re going to hear it.” Cas scowled at Sam. He liked him but sometimes he was so stubborn he just wanted to shake him. “Did you tell Dean that you weren’t brothers anymore? Did you really say that?”

Sam pulled a bitch face. “I – that’s not exactly what I meant – he’s just sensitive. I meant I couldn’t hunt with him as my brother anymore – that we had to hunt as professionals and keep the brother thing out of it. He knew what I meant.”

“Obviously he didn’t. Since he was drinking himself to death in a hotel room over what you said.”

“He what?” Sam scoffed “Dean drinks. It’s what he does. Some people play golf. Some do yoga. Dean drinks – he gets it from our father.”

“He told you about the Mark of Cain?”

“Yeah – he told me. But Dean does what he wants to do – I’m not his – “

“What Sam? You’re not his keeper? A bit cliché under the circumstances, don’t you think? I’m trying to be patient Sam.”

“What do you want me to say Cas?”

“Dean said that you basically disowned him. Is that true? How could you Sam?”

“How could _I_? How could he allow Gadreel to possess me without my permission? Without my knowledge!?”

“OK yes – it was terribly wrong. He _does_ know that, you know. He does realize what he did was wrong. He isn’t asking for forgiveness for that.”

“He was selfish!”

“Stop! Stop right there, Sam. Don’t go any further. After everything your brother has done for you? The _one_ thing – the _worst_ possible thing you could ever say to him, is that he’s selfish. Do you ever even stop to think about everything he’s done for you? What he’s given for you?”

“Cas – I know.” Sam seemed tired and bored with the whole discussion which only served to add more fuel to Cas’ fire.

“Do you? Do you really? All those years your father was more interested in hunting than being a father. All those times he left you two alone for weeks at a stretch. And Dean was there. He loved you like a mother and a father. He cared for you. He protected you. Tucked you in at night; got you up for school in the morning. Your father didn’t do that. It was Dean. It was always Dean.” Cas recalled seeing these images in Dean’s memories.

“Yeah – I know all that. It sucked. Dean took care of me. I’ll always be grateful to him for that. I will. But that doesn’t give him free reign over me to do whatever he deems necessary.”

“And you think that’s all he did for you?”

“Cas, you don’t have to remind me that he went to Hell for me. But even that – he did it for himself.”

Cas went still and his voice was almost a dark whisper. “Do you really think that is the first time your brother went to Hell for you Sam Winchester?”

Sam paused, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“When your father left you both alone – sometimes far longer than he had intended - maybe he didn’t even care. How do you think Dean kept you both fed and in those hotel rooms?”

“I dunno - Dad left money – we pick-pocketed a little – Dean hustled pool.”

“Sam. You know the truth. You don’t want to but you do. Deep down, I know you know the truth. And maybe I’m betraying Dean by going down this road but it has to be said. The one thing that man has _never_ been is selfish.”

Cas took a deep breath and prayed Dean could forgive him this. “He sold himself so you could have food in your stomach. So you could have clean clothes and a Ninja Turtle lunch box – I’m still not sure what a Ninja Turtle is – “ He shook his head “- but when you say to Dean that he is selfish because he wants to keep you alive – that he’s not your brother? Well it’s the worst kind of cruelty. You might as well tell him to go back to Hell. You might as well strap him to the rack yourself.“

“He sold himself - what do you - ? I – Oh my God. No, that’s not true. It can’t be. I - ” Sam looked like he wanted to throw up. “I didn’t know. Or – maybe you’re right – I didn’t want to know.” He shook his head sadly.

“That man has been going to Hell for you since he was a kid. And he did it gladly. For you. And you tell him he’s selfish.”

“I – I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you need to say that to.”

~*~*~*~

1997

 

_“Where ya been Dean?” Sammy sat up sleepily and rubbed his eyes._

_“Nowhere Sammy – go back to sleep.” He dug some crumpled twenties and tens out of his front pocket and shoved them into the bottom of his duffel._

_“You hustling pool?”_

_“Yeah – yeah pool – you know. Don’t tell Dad OK? He’ll be pissed.”_

_“Yeah. I won’t tell him.” Sam wrinkled his nose. “You smell gross though - like cigarettes – you need a shower.”_

_“Yeah – I’m on my way there in a sec.” Dean grabbed his father’s bottle of Whiskey and took a couple of big swigs._

_“Dean! You know Dad doesn’t want you drinking.”_

_“Well – then he shouldn’t have left it here. Look – go back to sleep ok?”_

_“Yeah – OK.” Sam rolled over and closed his eyes and pretended to sleep._

_Dean pulled his jacket and flannel off; his shoulder was sore where it had been yanked behind his back a little too hard. He’d had to stop himself from beating the crap out of the guy because he hadn’t gotten paid yet and sometimes, they just liked it rough. That was the price of the game he was playing. He peeled off his tee-shirt that smelled of things he didn’t want to think of._

_“Dean – why do you have bruises on your back? Did you get in a fight? Were you hunting without Dad!?”_

_“Sammy! I said go to sleep! I told you I was hustling pool. The guy got pissed is all - I took care of it. I’m taking a shower.”_

_He hated leaving Sammy at night going out to dive bars, and into filthy bathroom stalls with disgusting, drunk men who wanted to get their rocks off with a barely legal kid. But John had been gone for a week longer than Dean had budgeted for – and Dean had learned to stretch one week’s money into two as it was. There was only so far a couple of slices of boloney, a loaf of Wonder Bread and some off-brand soup was gonna stretch. The Lucky Charms dad had bought as a peace offering for leaving again so soon were long gone by the end of the first week. And though he’d been lucky enough to find some only slightly stale donuts and cake behind the bakery a couple days back, that wasn’t a long-term solution._

_But tomorrow they’d have pizza – maybe cheeseburgers – and real cokes too. It was worth it to see Sammy’s eyes sleepy with a full stomach for a change. Maybe they’d even go to an arcade for a few games. Sammy deserved to get to be like a regular kid every now and then – and if he had to sell himself to do it, well that was fine. It was his job. He was the big brother._

_So what if the guys liked to pull his hair too hard or call him a whore as they screwed him. He turned it off. Words didn’t matter. What they did to him didn’t matter. It was just his body they were using. They’d never get his soul. His soul was his._

_~*~*~*~*~_

_Hell_

_“Dean. Look at you. The perfect apprentice; you’ve become an artist.”_

_Dean’s face dripped with the blood and gore of the soul on the rack in front of him. He needn’t bother wiping it off. It would soon be replaced with more. Dean licked his lips to taste the salt of his victim. This one was a married man that liked to screw young boys in bathroom stalls. He wanted to take his time with this one. Give him special attention._

_“I don’t even have to tell you what to do anymore. I can just watch you and enjoy the show.” Alistair cooed and caressed Dean’s hair as his eyes were held in thrall by the sight of his work. “And you like it. I knew you would take to it. I could see it all along. You needed to inflict this pain. It’s delicious, isn’t it? Giving some of the pain back?”_

_Dean breathed deep. His work was satisfying. He enjoyed it. He circled the writhing piece of meat in front of him and salivated at the thought of what he would do next. He smiled wickedly as he stepped forward to slice again._

_“Yes Dean. Your soul is mine Dean. You’re my little whore. Finally, you belong to me.”_

_Dean never dared to imagine anything beyond this blood and stench and filth and pain. He never imagined eyes so blue, they would reach into him and wrest his soul from the clutches of Hell. And he never imagined those blue eyes would belong to an Angel in a stupid trench coat who would give everything he had to save him._

~*~*~*~

 

 

Dean’s head was aching. He’d just finished off Abbadon – he still wasn’t sure how exactly he’d done it – the Mark of Cain was still burning on his arm and he was pretty sure he had another concussion and would need about twenty stitches in his shoulder. But he’d done it.

Crowley complimented him on a job well done. “I truly never thought you’d do it my boy! But here I am King of Hell again! And I have you to thank for it. Truth be told, I may be a _wee_ bit disappointed you didn’t get yourself killed in the process. My new – old – new - digs are going to be a bit empty and I figured having a feathered pet would be just the right conversation piece.”

“What are you talking about Crowley?” Dean was tired, sore and bleeding and had no patience for Crowley’s cryptic jokes.

“Oh? Your littlest Angel didn’t talk to you about our little arrangement?” Crowley feigned innocence.

“What arrangement? What are you talking about? Spit it out or I’ll gank you right now!”

“To keep you out of Hell of course. We had a lovely chat recently and he asked me to keep you out of Hell – he offered himself up in your stead. Very chivalrous. Brought a tear to my eye.”

“What are you saying? He did _what_?”

Crowley sighed as if he was dealing with an idiot and made elaborate hand gestures as he spoke. “Your Angel – Castiel - made a deal. Your soul goes to Heaven. He shacks up with me. Simple. Get it? Do I need to draw pictures? Sock puppets perhaps? Twitter?”

Dean’s head felt dizzy – and not entirely from his concussion. “No. Uh uh. No, Cas - Cas wouldn’t do that. He’d never agree to go to Hell.”

“For you he would. That winged sexpot would do anything for you. Not sure if you know it – but he’s got it bad.”

“He agreed to spend eternity in Hell - _for me_?” Dean wasn’t sure if he could believe what he was hearing.

“Eternity? No. A thousand years. He gets to spend a thousand years in my sex dungeon with me as head Dom while you wait for him. Then he’ll get to come home to you and you can make love all day on a fluffy cloud. It’s a better deal than most get. I can’t say for sure that he’ll be the same Angel you knew though – after a thousand years in Hell.”

Dean’s mind reeled. Surely Cas wouldn’t have done something so stupid. After all the crap that he’d seen these kinds of deals cause. Cas traded his soul for Dean’s? What a stupid, stupid thing to do. And his heart broke out of love for the idiot Angel that loved him back. He couldn’t let Cas pay for his mistakes no matter how terrified he was of returning to the pit. “Don’t take the deal. Crowley. You gotta release him from this.” Dean clenched his jaw. No way was his Angel going to get tortured in Hell by Crowley for his sins. “Look - I know we hate each other but you owe me. You fucking _owe_ me Crowley.”

“Why should I? Your soul is already damaged. I can’t say it would be very interesting to torture you – you’re half way to broken already - but breaking _Castiel_? Breaking that sexy little Angel of the Lord? Now the thought of _that_ makes my mouth positively water. “

Dean’s breath hitched in desperation, his eyes watered and his mouth trembled. “You want me to beg? Is that what you want?” Dean opened his arms in surrender. “OK – I’m begging.” Dean’s voiced sounded choked. “You want me on my knees? OK, fine.” Dean sank to his knees. “I’m on my knees, Crowley. I’m on my knees. I got nothing left. Just - don’t take the deal. Please.”

“What is it with you Dean? You’re so willing to sacrifice yourself?”

Dean shook his head. “Please man.”

Crowley felt a tinge of something. Guilt? Residual effects from the blood Sam had injected him with during the trials most likely. It was bloody annoying. “You’re really willing to go back to Hell to save your Angel?”

Dean took a shaking breath and steadied himself to reply. “I can’t knowingly let him go to Hell for me. I can’t. He’s all I’ve got left. He’s the only one that still gives a damn about me.” He took a deep breath. “And I love him. So yes.”

Crowley regarded Dean. He’d honestly never come across any human like him. If he had a heart, this man would have broken it. “You’ve never even said that to him have you?” Of course he didn’t have a heart. Not even a little. “Fine. Your Angel is safe. I’m not happy about it.”

Dean nodded his head; frankly surprised his begging had any effect on Crowley. Dean drew in a ragged breath. “Thank you.” Dean nodded. “Thank you Crowley.”

“Oh – and Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not going to go to Hell either.” Crowley’s jaw clenched and his lip twitched at the corner. “I’ll – make some calls.”

Dean was thoroughly perplexed. “What?” He narrowed his eyes. “Why? Why would you do that?”

The King of Hell shrugged. “Maybe I have a soft spot for you Squirrel. Maybe it’s a thank you for getting my throne back. Don’t ask too many questions.” With that information, Crowley disappeared.

Had Crowley just released both he and Cas without anything in it for himself? The thought made him entirely nervous. But he wasn’t going to look a gift Demon in the mouth.

~*~*~*~

 

“Cas!?” Dean stood in his latest crappy hotel room and half prayed half ordered. “Cas, get your feathery ass down here! I need you right - ” Dean felt a flutter of wings behind him. “ – now. Hey Cas. Good to see you. Nice weather we’re having. Something you wanna tell me?”

“Dean? You seem angry. What’s happened?”

“What’s happened? Really? You’re gonna play cute? Crowley told me! About your deal?” He cocked an eyebrow at the Angel. “What the _Hell_ were you thinking Cas?!”

“Dean. I swore to you I would never let you go back to Hell. I simply made arrangements so that never happened.”

“So you sold yourself to Crowley?? So he could use you as a sex toy for a thousand years? Are you insane?! Oh - I got him to break the deal, by the way – you’re welcome.” He finished sarcastically.

“Dean – it’s nothing more than what you did for Sam. When I pulled you from Hell, I swore to always protect you. And now that we’re – well, what we are to each other – I knew I couldn’t let you suffer again. Please - don’t be angry with me.”

“Angry with you??” Dean threw his arms around Cas. “You stupid, stupid Angel.” He muttered tenderly in Cas’ ear as he held him tightly against him. “I’d never let him take you. I’d go back to Hell first. Don’t you know that? I’d never let you sacrifice yourself for me.”

“Why Dean?”

“Because you own my soul Cas. You own my soul. And that’s cool with me.”


End file.
